After I got back from Southeast
Asia all I wanted to do was leave again. I had the “travel bug” or whatever it
is you retards call it. All I knew is that there was so much of the world that I
wanted to see and I better get on that shit before I drop dead. My buddy from
college, Frazier and I decided to drive down to the Baja peninsula of Mexico.
We didn’t really plan anything out other than looking at a few spots that we
could camp on the beach. I figured that nothing says adventure like camping on
the beach in fucking Mexico. Between living in Colorado for a few years and my
Southeast Asia trip I decided that staying in hotels was pretty fucking stupid
if there was any way around it. Why spend the money when you can camp or sleep
in the car?
Frazier and I headed out in
my Chevy Blazer for the drive to Mexico with a bag of weed, hardly any money
and no real plan. After the long ass drive from Colorado with only stopping for
gas, we get to California. I’ve always had a problem with California for some
reason and I never wanted to go there but we didn’t really have a choice if we
wanted to get to Rosarito. I guess something about all the pretty, rich people
made me fucking sick. Plus, the Braves were in San Diego in a couple of days
and being from Atlanta and a huge Braves fan I had planned on swallowing my
pride and hanging out in San Diego for a couple of days. So we get close to the
border and the plan was to park on the US side and walk across the border and
get a cab to Rosarito. Somehow we fucked that up and ended up in the line to
Mexico with no chance to turn around. We knew better than to bring weed across
the border and didn’t want to leave it in the car because of drug sniffing dogs
but we fucked that up as well. Luckily, we just told the Mexican border agent
that we fucked up and were turning around and he didn’t fuck with us.
We got off the first US exit from
Mexico and found some neighborhood where we stashed our weed in the woods and headed
to park at the border so we could walk across to Mexico. When we got into
Mexico it was pretty surreal. We went from the beautiful, rich, asshole California
to dirty, stinky Mexico in a matter a feet. We immediately got a cab and I immediately
got pissed off when the driver told us it would cost dollars to get to
Rosarito. In the worst Spanish possible I tried to explain that we were in
Mexico and they didn’t use dollars so I was paying in pesos. I didn’t want to
get ripped off but we probably did even though I refused to give him dollars.
We got to Rosarito and we needed to
find a place to camp. We both had our big backpacking bags and didn’t really
know what the fuck we were getting into. Rosarito seemed like a place that
reminded me of Panama City, Florida or some other Spring Break destination. It
was full of multi-level dance clubs on the beach and I’m pretty sure it’s where
18 year old Abercrombie faggots from San Diego went to drink. We started
walking down the beach away from the clubs so we could find a spot to camp
where we wouldn’t get robbed or fucked with. After about a mile it started to
clear away from civilization and we reached an inlet coming into the ocean.
After further examination we discovered that it wasn’t just any inlet into the
ocean, it was a god damn sewage inlet into the ocean. You could see Mexican shit
logs floating by into the Pacific Ocean! Who knew Mexicans actually shit logs, I
get the Cambodian Piss shits just thing about Mexican food. Welcome to fucking
Mexico!
We carefully jumped over the
Mexican shit river and walked a few hundred yards down where we thought we were
safe enough to camp. We then hauled our shit all the way back to the clubs and
decided to get shit hammered. One of the clubs was nice enough to hold our bags
while we drank and they had an “all you can drink special” for 20 bucks. Here
we go again with these fucking Mexicans charging US dollars! Regardless, we got
shit blasted in this Mexican dance club on cheap tequila and shitty beer. If
you know me at all, you know I fucking hate dance clubs and don’t drink tequila.
I guess there are exceptions while on vacation in god damn Mexico. After a full
night of drinking, Frazier decided that he wanted to leave and go set up camp. He
grabbed his pack and for some drunken reason I decided to stay behind. I told
him that I would just look for the tent and meet up with him later.
After he left nothing really
exciting happened and if it did, I don’t fucking remember it. At some point I got
my pack and headed to find Frazier and the tent. I knew that he was at least
past the shit creek so I stumbled down the beach with my big camping pack. As I
approached the shit creek I walked up to the edge and threw my pack over and
looked for my best crossing. I then decided that my best bet was to get a
running start and jump over. I went back about 20 yards or so and drunkenly
started booking it for my leap across the Mexican shit river. As I got to the
edge and was about to successfully make my jump, the sand of the inlet gave
away and I came crashing face first into every Mexican’s piss and shit in
Rosarito, Mexico. I was covered in sewage, not just any sewage but Mexican
sewage. Trying to be as racist as possible, Mexico is fucking dirty and the
shit they eat down there makes you piss out of your fucking ass. The fact that
earlier we saw logs floating down the river is even more disturbing. That means
that what makes me piss out of my ass, their bodies are used to. Piss shit or
logs, it’s still fucking shit from shitty fucking food. I did my best to
drunkenly wash myself off in the ocean but remember, the god damn shit river
was flowing into the ocean. What good does that really do? I made it back to
the tent and went to fucking sleep covered in piss and shit from every Mexican
in Rosarito, Mexico.
I woke up in the morning hungover
and covered in piss and shit to the sounds of a river flowing and I opened the
tent to a monster horse cock taking the biggest piss he could about 5 feet from
the tent. Some fucking old Mexican thought it was a good place to gather his
horses for his morning horseback rides down the beach for the gringos. Who knows,
maybe we thought his horse gathering place was a good place to camp but
regardless, fuck that guy. All I wanted to do at this point was to get the fuck
out of there and get a shower. I explained my story to Frazier and we packed up
to find a cheap hotel. Hotels may be stupid and a waste of money but if you’re
covered in piss and shit from every Mexican in Rosarito, Mexico you deserve a
shower no matter how many places there are to camp.
After getting a refreshing shower
we walked around a bit and were walking down a side street when we saw this
drunk Mexican blasting La Cucaracha music take a corner too sharp, hit a car
and start speeding and swerving towards us. We jumped out of the way as this
guy sped by hitting several other cars and continuing on. Welcome to god damn
Mexico! This is why I didn’t want to drive my car down there.
Not much else happened on that
trip. We knew it was time to get the fuck out of there so we just laid low that
night and met some really ugly chick from San Diego that smoked some weed with
us and told us we were crazy for camping on the beach. We got the fuck out of
there the next morning and headed to the beautiful, sunny San Diego. I may be a
little crazy and it was probably a stupid thing to do but normal vacations bore
me. Whatever you do though, don’t tell those Mexicans down there that they all
pissed and shit on me. I don’t want those fuckers to inevitably take my job AND
piss and shit all over me. One or the other assholes, EQUILITY!
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